Author's notes: Hello again guys. Sorry for not updating in a few days. There was a really bad storm and my power was out. D: And then my computer started to mess up on me...but I think it's working fine for now... So first I would like to say thank you agian to the kind reviewers and people who have favorited my story. It means a lot! So to adress the people who reviewed...

Ace Jermey: I'm glad you find this fic cute. And hopefully you will like this chapter. And I hope you like the way I wrote France... :D

HunterWindstalker: Thank you for reading my story. I'm glad you think it's brilliant! I hope you continue to read it.

Keiko-chi: Thank you for reviewing! Like I said, reviews mean a lot! They brighten up my day, and gives me more inspiration and will to write. Thanks for keeping an eye out since ch 1. :D

iggy demon sis: I hope you think this chapter is as good as the last.

Rose Red: You put my story on your computer favorites? Thank you so much! ;A; Really! That means a lot! I had no idea that someone would like my story that much.

trefles: You were really hooked on my summary? :D And I really didn't like my summary, I thought I kinda failed at it...But thank you for liking my story, I hope you find this chapter enjoyable! :D

Well I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! I am sorry for any spelling and grammer mistakes...

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of it's characters.

Now onward! ~Rose

America hurried back into the house carrying the small boy in his arm, protectively. He walked back into the living room where his brother and France were waiting. He looked down at England with a worried glance before speaking.

"I found him…but I think he's hurt…." America said quietly, worry present in his voice as he walked over to Matthew.

Canada looked at the small boy in his brother's arms and could almost not believe what he saw. The young child indeed looks a lot like England, with bushy eyebrows, and his famous scowl. Matthew walked closer and noticed the boy was shivering, and his face was flushed red. He gently put his hand on the child's forehead.

"He's running a fever…" Canada said quietly. "He must have caught a cold from being outside too long…" He then looked at the boy's right foot and could see it bruised and swelling. "And it looks like he hurt his foot…"

America gave a frown at hearing this news. He then walked over to the brown couch at the right side of the room and laid England down carefully on. He brushed the child's wet bangs out of his face before staring at the other two nations a serious expression on his face.

"Mattie, go and get the first aid kit and a thermometer. I'm going to get some clean clothes for him to change into…" America then got up and started to head up stairs, but stopped and turned to look at Francis who was staring at the small boy, a shocked look on his face. "France," The Frenchman turned to look at him. "Keep an eye on him…okay?" After receiving a nod, America started to climb his way up the stairs, while Canada made his way to the bathroom.

Once the other nation's left, France looked down at England and let out a sigh. He did not like to see him looking so sick. And seeing him in his current form brought back many memories. With another sigh he got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a damp rag. He came back and started to carefully wipe at the small England's dirty face. "Petit Angleterre is very dirty non?" He whispered quietly as he cleaned the boy's face, letting a distant memory replay in his mind.

France was looking around the large land he had just arrived on. He was much younger, and just started to explore different lands. There was a pleasant breeze in the air, and the sun was shining it's warmth down on him. He took a deep breath of the air and let out a sigh. He then started to walk further on the land, discovering a forest up ahead. He smiled to himself and started to explore.

The forest was big and held many tall, green trees, along with many different wildflowers growing in the grass. There were many small animals scurrying about, as if they were playing a child's game of tag. And in the distance was the sound of a stream flowing.

The sound of the water trickling from the stream, and the natural sounds of the forest were very soothing. Francis took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing his body and just listening to the calming sounds. A small smile appeared on his face as he listened to the peaceful sounds. His smile was short lived however, as he heard a different sound not to far away. It was a soft, hiccup. A quiet, depressed, and hurt sobbing.

France opened his eyes and started to walk towards the unknown noise. The closer he got the louder the noise was, and the more his heart hurt listening to it. He finally came to a small clearing; he pushed aside a few bushes of grass and stared at the source of the noise.

A small boy was sitting in the middle of the clearing. He had a head of messy blonde hair, and wore a small white dress shirt, with a green hooded cape tied around his neck and hanging down his back. The boy was curled into a tight ball, and sobbing. Large tears were pouring out from his eyes, and his body shaking as he took in shaken breaths. He was rubbing his eyes furiously as if trying to stop the flowing fountain of water that trickled down his cheeks, but the more he fought the more tears and cries seemed to come form him.

Francis bit his lip as he watched the boy cry in silence for a moment. It pained his heart to hear the harsh and pained cries of the small boy. Taking a deep breath, he walked slowly, and quietly till he was right next the boy. He placed a soft hand on his shoulder. "Why are you crying?" He asked softly.

The boy suddenly jumped at France's touch, and turned around with wide, puffy eyes. The boy's eyes were an emerald green and held that of sadness, and pain. Now that he could see the boy's face, France also noticed that the boy had large, bushy eyebrows, and there appeared to be several bruises and cuts on his face.

"I-I w-wasn't cwying!" The boy said back roughly and started to rapidly wipe at his eyes, as if trying to hide any evidence that they once held tears. "W-Who awe you? A-And what do you want?" The boy asked giving a sniff. "And you sownd funny…"

"I'm Francis. I represent the belle country of France!" France gave a big smile as he said this. Then the last comment the boy said hit his ears, and he gave a big frown. "Non! I do not sound funny! If anything, your huge eyebrows are funny, oui?" France pointed at the boy's eyebrows and gave a huff.

"T-They are not!" The boy let one hand go up and touch his eyebrows before giving a huff and a scowl at France.

"They are too!" France gave a laugh, putting his hands on his hips.

"No!" The boy shook his head, and gave an angry glare. "S-Stwipd Frog face!" He then got up and kicked France's leg, before turning and running off. He did not get very far when he tripped and fell down, his face landing in the dirt.

France let out a little gasp of pain, as the boy had kicked his shin. He let out a growl, but stopped as he saw the boy fall down on the ground. He watched as the boy struggled to get up, and hold back tears of…pain? Was the boy hurt more then just the bruises on his face? France let out a sigh, and walked over to the boy, picking up a small wildflower on the way.

Francis reached his hand down and helped the boy to his feet. He then handed him the small flower, as an apology. France gave the boy a smile. "What is your name mon ami?"

The boy looked up with shocked eyes as the strange boy named Francis helped him up. He blinked as the flower was handed to him. He took it with gentle hands and held it close to his chest. He felt a small warmth from the smile he received. It was different from the usual coldness, anger, and hatred he received. The boy gave a small smile. "A-Awthur…" The boy whispered quietly. "I repwesnet Engwand…"

France gave a smile and gently took the flower from the boy's hand and put it in his hair, resting softly behind his ear. "Bonjour Arthur…"

France was too busy lost in his thoughts to notice the pair of emerald eyes that opened and were now watching him. He did not come out of his thoughts, until he heard a familiar, soft, but weak voice.

"F-Fwancis…?" England looked up at the Frenchman above him. He was happy to see a familiar face. Arthur let out a bit of a sigh. "You…got bigger…" He said softly noticing how much taller France looked then the last time he had seen him.

Just before France could say anything, America came back down the stairs, holding a large t-shirt in his hands. Canada had come back as well carrying a thermometer and first aid kit.

"Oh, good you're awake!" America sighed a bit as he said this, coming closer to England. "Now let's get you out of those wet clothes…" But as America reached out to England the boy jumped away, a scared look in his eyes.

"Fwance! You j-joined them?" He gave France a look of hurt, sadness, and anger. "I-I knew I could not twust you!" He climbed down from the couch and gave France a glare, wincing as he put pressure on his hurt ankle. "What did you do with Dwagon? You took him again didn't you?"

America gave a hurt frown, as he saw England edge away from him. Even so, he once again reached out to England. "Come on Arthur, I wan to help…"

"I…I do not twust you!" England steeped back from America's extended hand. "Y-You will hurt me…just like them…" Sadness appeared into Arthur's eyes as he looked at the floor.

"They are not here Angleterre…and we will not hurt you…" France gave a bit of a sigh. "And I do not have your petit bunny…"

"Here, change into this…" America set the t-shirt down on the ground, not reaching out for the child, as it had backfired twice. America then left the living room, disappearing up stairs.

"Where…are they?" England asked quietly, fear present in his eyes. He looked at the over sized t-shirt, it had a strange pattern on it, a sort of flag with stares and strips. England slowly began to take of his wet shirt, shivering as he was cold. He pushed France's hands away, as the man tried to help him. Then once the warm, dry new shirt was on him, he looked at France, with sad eyes. "T-Then where is Dwagon…?"

"Well…" France scratched his beard, trying to figure out a way to tell the boy that his precious bunny was gone. "He…He is-"

"England, Can I take your temperature?" Canada cut in knowing that the topic was sensitive. "You must be tired, how about you rest eh?"

England blinked and turned to look at Canada. "W-Who are you?" He asked giving a suspicious glare.

"I'm Matthew…" Canada said gently, used to these questions, as everyone seemed to forget him quite often. " You do not remember me either eh?" He gave a soft chuckle before holding out his hand to England.

"I…I do not know you…" England gave a frown, and shook his head. "I am fine…weave me awone…" England gave a bit of a whimper as he felt dizzy. He fell down and gave a yelp as he hurt his ankle more.

"England!" Canada went to help the boy up, but was stopped by France, who shook his head. Canada gave him a confused look, before looking back at England. He watched as he saw the young boy straining himself, forcing himself to get back up, and little tears falling from his eyes even though he tried to keep them in.

Canada was going to say something when he heard America coming down the stairs. He then watched as his brother walked over to England, crouching down to his level a soft smile on his face. "Alfred…?" He whispered quietly, before just watching, wondering what the American was up too.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I scared you earlier…" America said in a soft voice, holding something behind his back.

"I-I wasn't scawed!" England protested. He took a step closer to America, feeling safer now that they were close to the same height, but continued to watch him carefully.

America gave a little laugh. "Yeah, how could I think you were scared? You're way too strong and brave to be scared of anything!" He then moved his hands, showing the item he had hid to the boy. It was a small, stuffed, bunny. It had long, floppy ears, brown button eyes, and knitted brown fur. "Here, I heard you like bunnies…I like them too…" America whispered holding the plush toy out for England to take.

England blinked, and stared at the toy for a long time. He then looked at America, noticing the warm smile, the soft shine in his blue eyes. For some reason the feeling felt familiar. England took slow steps forward, and carefully took the stuffed toy and held it tightly to his chest. "T-Thank you…" He whispered looking at his feet.

America let out a soft sigh as he saw England take the toy. He then reached out and gently ruffled his messy hair. "Take good care of it okay?" He gave another warm smile. "Someone important to me gave me that as a gift…so it's very special…" America then looked down at England's foot to see it was still swollen, and he was still standing on it. "Can we help heal your foot now…?" He asked quietly.

England blinked surprised by the question. He gave America a confused look, as if he did not understand why the man would want to help him. He obviously knew who he was, why was he offering him help? England hugged the plush bunny closer to his chest and nodded his head slowly, before asking softly: "Why…?"

America carefully lifted England into his arms, a bit shocked by the child's question. He then sat down on the couch, putting England in his lap and allowing Canada to wrap a bandage around the boy's small ankle. "Because I'm a hero, and I want to help you…" He whispered his reply. He then let his hand feel England's forehead, not liking how hot it felt.

England whimpered as he felt dizzy once more. He let out a little yawn as he suddenly felt very tired. "No one…help me…" He muttered as he laid his head onto America's chest. "Evewyone hates me…even Fwancis…that…why he left…all the time…" England whispered this and held the bunny in his arms close as he drifted off to sleep.

America kept England close as he slept. One hand gently stroking England's head, as the other kept him close to his chest. America couldn't help but think of what England had said before he fell asleep, it distressed him. He could feel the pain in the boy's voice; England really felt hated. Hated by France, and…everyone else? How did England end up this way?

America continued to think about England, as Canada checked the boy's temperature, finding out he had a bit of a high fever. He remained silent as his brother placed a cold compress onto his forehead, trying to reduce the fever. Then after a few moments of the pressing silence, both America and Canada turned their eyes towards France, with America speaking up first.

"So…What was all that about…?" America asked softly, referring to England's behavior and what he had said earlier.

"Yeah, What was England talking about France?" Canada joined in the questioning. "He…seems scared of someone…"

France let out a long sigh. "Oui…" He gave both of the younger nations a sad, but serious look. "I…have known Angleterre for a long time…" He took in a deep breath, and ran a hand through his long, blonde hair. "His past is a sad one…"

Author's notes: So how did you guys like it? I don't know...I kinda think I did bad with this chapter...but what do you guys think? :D Did you like the flashback thing France had? And don't worry there will be more fluff with America and England coming up incase you are wondering... Oh! And can anyone guess who that important someone was who gave America the plush bunny? w

So anyway, I will try to update soon! Reviews are always welcome! :D ~Rose